


Wrong message

by confusedsheep



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Gen, Insecure Sho, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:54:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28882035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confusedsheep/pseuds/confusedsheep
Summary: The problem of Sakurai Sho, well, one of the problems, really, is that he doesn’t know how to deal with other members getting sick.Especially when it comes to Aiba.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Wrong message

**Author's Note:**

> *shows 15 minutes late with starbucks* Did someone say sick Aiba? Here, have some Sho fretting that he's useless (projecting is a bitch).

The timestamp showed that the message arrived sometime after midnight, probably just few minutes after Sho fell asleep. Important news are usually shared via phone calls, not messages, so it’s no wonder he didn’t hear a familiar _ping_ and slept on. The message ends up being read for the first – but not the last – time in the morning. Good thing, that. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to sleep so soundly.

_It seems that Aiba-san’s sick. He’s in hospital to take the covid test. Everyone, take care of yourselves._

It came from Nino and below this message there are more bubbles from all the members, yet Sho’s eyes are stuck to these lines only, unable to move downwards, reading and rereading those few words as if by seeing them for a second time (or third) would make them change. It didn’t.

_Aiba-san’s sick_.

Sho can’t stop the coldness spreading through him that has nothing to do with low temperatures outside. Sinking feeling is next and he feels the urge to breathe deeply to make it go away. That only makes him aware of his breathing pattern and suddenly the whole inhaling and exhaling thing stops being an automatic process. It seems like there isn’t enough oxygen in his lungs, and it takes a few tries to find the sufficient amount of air to inhale. For a while he has to focus on this task only and make sure to intentionally breathe in and out to even it out again. He isn’t panicking. It’s fine.

He goes to the kitchen to start making coffee, blatantly avoiding thinking about anything not related to his daily schedule, and only after a fresh cup sits before him, he takes his phone, opens the Line app and reads rest of the messages. There’s a usual combination of _Take care_ s and _Sorry_ s _to hear that_ before he discovers a bowing emoji from Aiba, sent a bit after two in the morning, apologizing for making everyone worry and saying that he’s waiting for the results. Other members added further sympathetic and encouraging messages, but he only scrolls through without reading any of them. Briefly, he wonders when the other members found time to read and respond so quickly. Especially Satoshi – what does that guy do with his time these days?

Sho knows he should write something too. Maybe not to their shared Line; it doesn’t seem necessary as quite some time already passed from the last message. It wouldn’t do to be late to the party. No, better to write directly to Aiba, send him some cute emojis or some wish for speedy recovery – that’s the usual thing people write in such cases, right?

The problem of Sakurai Sho, well, one of the problems, really, is that he doesn’t know how to deal with other members getting sick. And especially when it comes to Aiba. He, who did tons of MCs and interviewed Olympic players, politics, and superstars, has absolutely no clue what to say to him or what to do. When such thing happens – and sadly, it has happened on handful of occasions already – his fight-or-flight reaction kicks in in such way that his brain refuses to acknowledge the situation altogether. It’s a self-defence mechanism, Sho’s aware of this already. Without it, he would end up paralyzed by sheer terror, unable to function even on the most basic level. And he knows this painfully well. He can still very clearly remember that time back in 2002 when Aiba had to have surgery because of his lungs – that was one of the most horrible experiences of his life, one that he prefers not to dwell on too much lest he might drink himself into oblivion and regret it in the morning.

Suffice to say that in these cases, he just cannot dwell on the situation, no – he has to avoid it at all costs and pretend nothing’s wrong. It’s safer that way, less painful. So when faced with requirement to send encouraging messages to a sick or injured person, his mind draws blanks and leaves the problem for future Sho, because fuck that guy.

Sho’s musing is interrupted by a call from his manager concerning his schedule for the day and to be honest, he’s grateful for the distraction.

His first job of the day is location shooting and by the time he gets to the absolute dump of a place, he almost succeeds in persuading himself that everything’s fine. He reads the clue cards, interacts with other TV personalities, and flashes his perfect smiles into the cameras, receiving approving nods from the staff. He almost fools even himself. But behind this facade there’s a small persistent feeling of restlessness somewhere in the back of his brain. It stings and itches, making him exaggerate his gestures, talk louder than usual and after two hours of running all over the place appreciating everything from the nature and local architecture to seasonal food and regional alcoholic drinks, he appears a bit manic even to himself.

While he heads back to the city for a photoshoot, Sho immediately quiets down as if he finally ran out of fuel. He sips coffee from a travel mug and pores over his notes for today’s News Zero, making sure he has everything he needs. Occasionally, he can feel his phone vibrating with new messages until he snaps and throws it into his backpack without a single glance on the display. No distractions, he has work to do.

In a pause between two photoshoots the restless feeling is back in full force and he can’t stop bouncing his leg. His manager gives him a dubious look before he hesitantly puts another cup of coffee before him, but Sho doesn’t care. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.

On his way to the TV studio, where News Zero takes place, Sho once again goes through all his notes and only after that, after he’s made sure there is absolutely nothing else left to do, he allows himself to fish his phone from the backpack and opens the Line app again. After a brief scrolling through the latest messages he sees a short bubble from Aiba saying his test was negative. He briefly closes his eyes, letting out breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Thank god for small mercies. He doesn’t bother with other messages.

Afterwards, when he thinks about the meetings and live broadcast of News Zero, he has absolutely no idea what happened. He must have gone on autopilot, nodding where he was supposed to, looking troubled over more serious issues, and presenting his topic exactly how he rehearsed it the night before. At least he hopes so, he will have to check later. He was physically present in the post-broadcast meeting, receiving evaluation from his colleagues, probably adding some of his own, but if asked to repeat it, he wouldn’t recall a single word. God, he’s a mess.

When he finally gets home, it’s almost 2am and Sho would dive straight into his bed, but he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep. His body is tired, yet the wheels in his mind that should be gradually decreasing speed, preparing for relaxation and recharge, hasn’t shown any signs of slowing down. He’s restless again and it’s not the kind that could be taken care of by exercising.

Sho needs to do something. Something specific, something concerning the situation with Aiba. He’s aware he wouldn’t be of much help even if he decided to head to his place. He’s not a doctor, knows nothing about how to take care of a sick person, so what could he do? He can’t even offer his cooking skills as they’re non-existent. Even if he went, if he forced his presence on Aiba, he would just be a nuisance to him, only ending up distracting him from his effort to get better as soon as possible. No, Sho won’t be so selfish. He’s not here to gain sympathy points by participation only. This is not about him.

But what _can_ he do for Aiba?

After his second beer, Sho emerges from his thoughts that stalked him the whole day, though he hasn’t noticed them before (or chose not to) and finds himself watching his phone instead of whatever programme that’s currently on his flatscreen. In a sudden surge of courage, he unlocks his phone, opens a new message.

And freezes. What is he supposed to write? ‘ _Get well soon’_? That’s too generic. _‘I’m sorry to hear you don’t feel well. Please take care of yourself’_? Too formal. _‘I heard you’re sick and I’m scared shitless._ ’ Accurate, but too personal. ‘ _What would I do without you?_ ’ Sho sighs and lets his head hit a table. This is useless. _He_ ’s useless.

It’s just a message, not an official announcement like the one about their band’s hiatus. It should be easy. No journalists with intruding questions stabbing into him and lapping on the blood flowing from his wounds. Piece of cake.

Sho lifts his head just enough to see on the display under the table and his fingers type ‘ _Aiba-san’_. That’s as far as he gets before deleting it again. ‘ _Aiba-kun, take care of’_ he tries again, but to no avail. He groans and lets his head fall back on the table. Whatever he writes, it doesn’t sound adequate. It’s all so meaningless, just empty phrases, something that could be written by literary anyone. It doesn’t feel right. He’s usually good with words, so he should be able to find the right ones to express his wish for Aiba’s speed recovery. To show his worry that one of his best friends is sick and he’s afraid he won’t be able to do anything for him, afraid that Aiba has no one else who would take care of him in such situation. To emphasize his hope that whatever it is that bothers him, it will go away soon without any after-effects. And yet the right words won’t come.

He turns his head to the side, staring at the dark display of his phone as if the message is going to write itself. It doesn’t, surprisingly. Sho unlocks the display again and there’s the empty message, still waiting to be filled with its author’s wit and brilliance. When none comes forward to save the day, he snorts and just for fun types his usual concert greeting: ‘ _Aiba-chan, how’s it going?!_ ’ At this moment, his alcohol-induced brain decides it’s time for slideshow of his top five memories of his interactions with Aiba from their last concert and as he loses his focus, he also loses his grip on the phone.

Sho grabs at it and manages to catch it before it hits the floor. He exhales with relief but as he glances at the display, he forgets how to breathe. While he was rescuing his poor display glass from inevitable cracks that would stare at him accusingly for the rest of his phone’s lifetime, he somehow must have pushed the send button, because his foolish message is not in concepts anymore. Instead, it laughs at him from a bubble at the bottom of his display. First few seconds, his mind is blank, not comprehending what’s happened. Than the panic hits and he’s sitting up straight, wide awake and sober. Frantically, he taps on various options trying to find a way to delete the message. There isn’t one.

Strange numbness starts spreading in Sho’s chest. He’s done it now. Instead of well-meaning and thoughtful message like any NORMAL person would compose, he must have sent _this_. Directly to Aiba. At half past two in the morning. After a day of refusing to reply to any of the messages in their shared group Line.

His forehead hits the table again as Sho’s evaluating his life choices. Is it too late to pack a bag and disappear to some uninhabited island? Maybe he would meet Satoshi there. He could teach him how to survive in wilderness. That would be nice.

After a moment of self-pitying, his mind gears screech and start to work again. Okay, time for activating damage control. First step – send a coherent apology.

Sho sits up again, unlock his phone and as he starts to type a bit too formal sentence with far more keigo phrases than necessary, another bubble appears on his screen. Aiba’s reply.

It looks like he failed the first step; good job, that.

His heartbeat quickens and he has to focus on taking few calming breaths before he forces a cooperation between his eyes reading the message content and his brain trying to comprehend its meaning.

_I’m absolutely fine now that you wrote :D … well, not really, but it’s much better than yesterday. Thanks, Sho-chan!_

Before he knows it, there’s a smile on Sho’s face. It’s okay. He didn’t fuck it up. Aiba liked his little joke, even if it wasn’t intentional. He somehow doesn’t think of him to be a madman. Unbelievable. Silently he sends his thanks to whoever who brought that little ball of happiness named Aiba into his life – mainly to Johnny-san, of course – and with much lighter feeling quickly types his own reply before he loses nerves. His fingers are trembling, so it takes a bit more time than he expected.

_I’m glad to hear that. You should be resting, it’s late._

The answer is instantaneous. _Same to you. I just had to pee. Had too much tea with honey. Having sore throat sucks._

Sho laughs. Stress he felt earlier is finally dissolving and he reminds himself that this is normal, this is a usual situation, him, texting to Aiba. As if nothing happened. As if he hasn’t been worried sick the whole day. As if he isn’t worried now. _If it doesn’t help, try hot milk with a little honey and shot of rum. Works like a charm, but it’s impossible to focus on work afterwards._

Maybe this is the right way to approach the problem – chat like it’s just another conversation. He’s always been uneasy about approaching a sick member, unsure what to say, worrying he will come off as clingy, or worse, the exact opposite – cold and distant. Like he doesn’t care. Or cares too much when it’s not wanted.

_Not a problem for me as I’m officially off from work. But I have to get well before Sunday or my manager will kill me. Thanks for the tip!_

But maybe the said member is uneasy too – frustrated that he cannot function at his usual 100 %, worried that he causes problems to others. Scared that he will be left behind. Sho won’t let it happen, no one from Arashi will. It doesn’t matter there are not together anymore. He may not be able to take over Aiba’s show like Nino did, but he sure as hell can make Aiba feel normal. Ensure he knows people are thinking about him. Ensure he knows he’s cared for.

_You’re welcome :) Now go to sleep and let me know how you feel tomorrow and if you need anything. Good night!_

Aiba’s reply causes an indulgent smile to appear on Sho’s face. It seems he will be able to relax and fall asleep after all.

_I will. Thanks for texting me. I feel better just by talking to you. Good night, Sho-chan!_


End file.
